


Click

by orphan_account



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blood and Gore, Gore, M/M, Masturbation, Pear of Anguish, Torture, batshit crazy character, seriously Kuro is way fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuro is a fucked up boy that masturbates to fucked up things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Click

**Author's Note:**

> *GORE* i cannot stress that enough! i am a fucked up individual, i am not going to lie about that. so im gonna go ahead and apologize now. i am so so sorry.

Kuro hated the days Berwald had studio hours. He was supposed to be done by four but that was a joke. Berwald was never done before six which meant they only had two hours before Kuro’s curfew at eight. Of course, that was just about perfect for sex, but lately Kuro had found himself looking forward to Berwald insisting to cuddle him afterwards.

It wasn’t that Kuro was in love, oh God no. No, Kuro didn’t have feelings. He was a sociopath, incapable of caring about anyone but himself. This feeling wasn’t even a feeling at all, much less love. No, it was probably just indigestion. Or a tumor.

Or at least, that’s what Kuro kept telling himself.

Kuro pulled his pillow over his face and briefly thought about suffocating himself. What changed his mind was definitely the fact he would have to suffocate Kiku first and definitely not the thought of leaving Berwald. He screamed into his pillow, then threw it across the room and checked his phone. It wasn’t even 3:45 yet.

If he laid still, Kuro could hear a faint squeaking coming from his brother’s room. It wasn’t fair, he should be getting laid too!

“I can hear you!” Kuro shouted, and the squeaking stopped. He smirked. Kuro turned his ipod on, put his earbuds in and went back to thinking about Berwald.

Berwald was great. Tall, blond, handsome, good with his hands, and best of all, really in to Kuro. Berwald never thought twice about the things Kuro said, never thought Kuro was crazy. Even when Berwald goaded him into talking about things he liked and Kuro blurted out liked Medieval torture devices. As it turns out, so did Berwald. Berwald (and his loud Danish friend Mathias) really liked Vikings. And Vikings liked torture.

Kuro’s favorite was the pear of anguish. Simple, effective, efficient. The thought of tying someone down and forcing the device into their mouth; well, it made Kuro tingle all over. He began unbuttoning his pants, slowly slipping the zipper down. The face of his victim flitted between people he knew. Mostly his brother’s friends, then Kiku himself. No, Kuro had other plans for him.

It finally settled on Berwald. Kuro moaned as he took his hardening flesh in hand. Oh yes, he liked that idea. Imagining himself sitting on Berwald’s chest, the look of utter betrayal on his face, trying to plead with Kuro but being unable. Then Kuro would start turning the key.

He would do the first couple of clicks in quick succession, just until there was real resistance. Then he would take things slow, enjoy it. The way he would struggle against his bonds. Click. Every noise of discomfort. Click. The way he would have to struggle to breathe. Click. To swallow. Click. Every flinch. Click. Every gasp of pain. Click. Kuro would drink it in. Click. Click. Click.

His hand was moving fast, his eyes squeezed shut. Click. The pain would be almost unbearable by now. Click. The sides of Berwald’s mouth would be bleeding. Click. He might even be crying. Click. Oh, Kuro would love to see Berwald cry in pain. Click. Normally so reserved. Click. So stoic. Click. His cheeks would be visibly torn. Click. So much blood. One more click, and a sickening crack and-

Kuro came harder than he has in a long time. He stared at the ceiling and seriously considered investing in a pear of anguish. He shook his head and something pushed that thought away (but not love, that was a feeling and Kuro certainly didn’t have those). He grabbed his phone.

Berwald was elbow deep in clay when his phone’s text alert went off. He looked at his hands, then his phone, then back to his hands.

“… Shit,” he swore. Tino was walking by with a few bottles of paint.

“Do you need help, Berwald?” he asked. Berwald nodded.

“Yea, could you just see what that text was for me?” Berwald asked. Tino nodded, then picked up the phone.

“It’s from Kuro, and it says “Thinking of you!” and there’s a picture,” Tino turned bright red and turned the phone so Berwald could see it. It was Kuro’s hand, covered in-

“Oh. S-sorry, just uh, tell him I’ll be done in fifteen minutes. Sorry.” Tino nodded without saying anything and typed the message.

“So Kuro is…?” Tino asked as he put the phone down.

“My boyfriend.”

“Oh, didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Well, I’m gonna- I’ve got a painting that needs- yea,” Tino said and walked back to his easel. Berwald began cleaning up. He wondered what exactly Kuro had been thinking.


End file.
